


Querencia

by Crazby



Category: Naruto
Genre: Character Death, Escapism, F/F, Lost Love, Suicide Attempt, True Love, coming home
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-05
Updated: 2018-10-05
Packaged: 2019-07-25 13:36:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16198580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crazby/pseuds/Crazby
Summary: Loneliness would devour her soul, shattering it into pieces. Love was the only cure, just as it was the most severe venom.The tale of how Uchiha Mikoto fell into the sweet clutches oflove.





	Querencia

**Author's Note:**

> _-[que-ren-cia] - (n) A place where one feels safe; a place where one feels at home._

The sun was shining brightly. Green terrain surrounded them, cool breeze brushed against their skin. The spectacular sense of familiarity, the small gestures, the sensation of their bodies moving in unison-

Her eyes snapped opened as her breath hitched. She placed her hand over her heart, as if it would help in calming down the erratic beat. Pulling the sheets of her sweat covered body, she got up, her feet almost giving in, shaking. As she got to the bathroom she shut the door, leaning onto the sink.

Gorgeous, porcelain skin shimmered in the dim light of the moon. In the mirror stood an image of a stunning lady, her body fit, dark hair flowing carelessly. She allowed herself to glance into it, crimson eyes meeting hers, three tomoes spinning hastily.

Many considered Uchiha Mikoto an astonishing woman, Jōnin of Konohagakure, mother of two, wife to the Uchiha clan head. But it did her no good, not in this empty world. Not after  _that night,_ after  _she_  died…

A sigh escaped her lips as she gripped the faucet harder. Splashing her face with freezing water would help, she mused.

Obviously, it didn't.

The dreams hunted her for years. The way they used to hold onto each other as they'd indulge in their reveries. They'd escape from the whole world, even though for mere moment, but that was enough.

~~It was never enough~~.

They both understood that they could never be together. Mikoto was betrothed to the clan heir, her life set on stone.  _She_ was in love with two, both Mikoto and the strongest Shinobi to ever exist.

" _Kushina_ ," she whispered, the name sliding of her tongue so casually, so sweet and sorrowful. It had been eight poignant years, each second leaving more pain in its track. She tried to move on, to continue living, but…

There was no reason to try without her beloved anymore. She never loved Fugaku, never cared for him. He was a morbid human being, giving in to his sordid desires like any other. He was nothing like Kushina. No one was, no one _could be_.

A ghostly pale hand traced her face. Closing her eyes, just for a mere moment, she'd believe that maybe, just maybe…

Unconsciously, she reached for the blade on the shelf. It glimmered gently, reflecting her empty gaze.  _Just maybe..._  

"Kaa-san? Is everything alright?" her eldest son's voice resounded behind the door, worried tone clear in it.

Clearing her throat, she answered, "Yes, sweetheart. Go back to bed, I'll be out in a moment." Mikoto smiled grimly to herself, eyes tracing the thin crimson streak flowing from her wrist, at the remainder of her eldest, Itachi. Such a gentle soul, forced to grow up so soon. She could see remorse in his gaze every time he glanced at her. Despite what others thought, she wasn't blind, nor cruel. It was just that...

That she stopped carrying _so long ago_. She knew that the village elders was informed about the coup, by no other than Itachi, the heir himself. She knew it as well as the fact that the coup won't be allowed to happen. No, the council elders would allow the most drastic measures in order to ensure that the village was safe. She thought of revolting against the clan's moronic choice of action, but… she couldn't bring herself to care. No, her will died long ago. She herself died on that night, all those agonizing years ago, leaving behind but a mere shell. The day the love of her life left the world was the day Mikoto perished, too.

* * *

Days passed in a blur, the way they'd always do. Mikoto was used to pulling on a smile for her children. ' _They deserved at least that much,'_  she'd tell herself. She knew that her day was coming soon. Itachi's appearance worsened day by day. She should've tried to help, to ease his burden, but the void inside her own soul wouldn't allow to fill it for others. ' _He's strong,'_  she assured herself, ' _he'd take much better care of Sasuke.'_

It was darkening outside, but both of her sons had yet to return. She went on, preparing the family dinner. She knew that escapism was unhealthy, unnatural, but what could she say. Dead people don't feel. So she'd do what's necessary.

That's when the screaming began.

Agony. She could hear those eerie shrieks that'd make other's blood freeze.

She breathed out in relief. Her heart was racing in anticipation. ' _Finally_ …'

When Fugaku told her to face bittersweet, fate she complied without a word. They sat in the study, waiting for their undeniable destiny.

Clad in ANBU uniform was her eldest, covered in blood from head to toe. Tears streamed down his cheeks, his form shaking in fear of what's to come. For once she felt something akin to repentance, compassion. But it was too late for those.

' _Stay strong_ ,' she prayed for her children.

The parents bid their silent farewell, acceptance clear in their stances. Sobbing, the youngest ANBU – her baby boy – slashed through them, tears mixing with blood.

Many feared death. For her it felt like being freed from her cage. She closed her eyes, only to open them again, blinding white framing the form of the most breathtaking angel, her gorgeous long tresses, her exquisite violet her gazing at her with such warmth and attraction. Her angel.

"Okaeri, my love," murmured the angel, her voice music to her ears, her fingers brushing against Mikoto's cheek. Tears flew freely as they hung desperately onto each other, the way it was supposed to.  _'At long last_ ,' she mused…

The kiss was passionate, yet gentle. For once again they moved in unison, their lips following with their bodies, exploring every inch of their skin. They needed to feel, to touch, _to love_.

_"Tadaima, Kushina."_


End file.
